


Don’t know how to reach you when you get like this (waiting for you to come home)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Claudia Stilinski Lives, Curse Breaking, Everyone Is Alive, Feral Derek Hale, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Talia Hale & Claudia Stilinski Friendship, The Hale Family (Teen Wolf) Lives, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22601215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: Senator Talia Hale is going to be the first werewolf president. She is also his mother’s best friend, who’s in desperate need of a friendly mage to help her break the curse on her children. Stiles likes a challenge - and the free vacation in DC for his parents.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 111
Kudos: 1787
Collections: Sterek Valentine Week





	Don’t know how to reach you when you get like this (waiting for you to come home)

**Author's Note:**

> For Sterek valentine week day #3: Charmed  
> This one got way out of hand, but I played The Amazing Devil on repeat like a lot and I think it came out okay. And yes, this is the longest one ;)

Stiles had been watching Teen Wolf - because a baby Michael J. Fox in a terrible fur suit was hilarious - when he got the call. Seemed like the universe appreciated some irony. 

“Is this Mieczyslaw Stilinski?” 

The voice on the other end was deep, and so very serious. And their Polish was really fucking terrible. 

“Just call me Stiles,” he really was trying to be helpful here. “My mom is the only one who calls me Mieczyslaw. And only when she’s mad at me. It happens more often than you’d think.” 

There was no response, even though he’d been every bit as witty and charming as he ever was, which meant that this was a Very Serious Call. Or at least, a call from someone who thought they were very important - important enough to call the emergency number on a Friday night. Though, well, magic never slept, did it? 

The man on the phone tried again. “So you are Mieczyslaw Stilinski?”

“Yes,” Stiles figured he might as well go along with him. “How can I help you?” 

Sure, he had the emergency phone for a reason, but he didn’t usually get more than prank calls on it. Because teenagers thought it was hilarious to call what essentially boiled down to a magical 911. It really, really wasn’t - not to the guy manning the phone. 

‘Please hold for senator Hale,” the dipshit actually put him on hold. 

Senator Hale? Like, hometown hero Talia Hale? The closest thing he’d ever had to an aunt? The woman his mother had always had a bit of a lady boner for? And yeah, he didn’t want to think about that too closely, but their friendship always felt a little more flirtatious than Stiles had expected. His Dad had long since gotten used to it, but Stiles was always a little weirded out when his Mom paid a renowned politician some highly specific compliments about her figure. 

Of course he approved of his mom letting her bisexual freak flag fly - it would have been extremely hypocritical of him if he didn’t - but hearing his mom flirt? He hardly even wanted to be around it when she was flirting with his Dad. 

Claudia Stilinski got very specific. And explicit. 

And Stiles knew more about what his parents got up to than he ever wanted to. And vice versa, because Stiles really was a lot like his mother. Too much, according to his Dad, when he joked about feeling ganged up on. 

“Stiles, is that you?” Talia Hale sounded frantic. 

“Senator,” he tried to be polite. 

Because he didn’t know who else was listening to their conversation. He might have been on speakerphone in a conference room in Washington somewhere, and that was not conducive to going down Memory Lane. Especially not if there was an actual crisis. 

“Oh, knock it off Stiles,” even in a crisis Talia Hale was both warm and witty. “I’ve seen you naked in the bath many times before. I think you can call me Talia.” 

Oh, he could, but he hadn’t been sure if he’d be allowed to do that when it came to official business. He might have grown up calling her auntie Talia, but the Hales had moved to the East Coast when Stiles was hardly in his teens. He hadn’t seen Talia much since then, though he knew of the weekly Skype calls she had with his mother - he’d walked in on a couple over the years. And there had been a holiday visit once or twice. 

But it had been a while since she felt like family to him. 

“Talia,” Stiles tried to be agreeable. 

This was the future president of the country, after all. She’d be the first wolf in the Oval Office, and the first woman too. Yeah, okay, maybe he understood the lady boner. A bit. 

“It’s about my children,” Talia cut to the matter at hand. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I’m running for the next primaries. And not everyone is happy to have a wolf in office. They’re taking it out on my children. They hired someone to charm them.” 

And that was not a euphemism for some ridiculous honey pot mission - that was actual magic, probably dark magic too. Talia sounded concerned, but if it had been a matter of immediate life and death, she probably would have contacted one of the many mages in the city. Stiles was just a pro-bono idiot with a phone who thought that anyone had a right to magical support. 

Most mages did not agree. 

“Can I be frank?” Stiles asked and didn’t bother waiting for the answer. “You probably have the best mages in the country on speed-dial. And they’d happily do you a favor in exchange for you mentioning their name in front of a camera or microphone. Why me?” 

Stiles was very aware that he was not considered to be all that great. His Spark had been discovered late, only triggered when his best friend got bitten by a rogue Alpha. He’d been tested before, but when they found only a low-level potential for magic, they hadn’t bothered actually keeping track of him. Not when there were many more powerful children who hadn’t needed a magical boost to get them started. 

And even now, he hadn’t chosen the most prestigious line of work. 

His magic had never been traditional. His specialty had always been less than exciting - when they’d finally figured it out. Curse breaking was considered low-level, since it involved much research and hands-on work. And patience, which was the tricky part for Stiles. 

“Because you’re the best,” Talia was vehement about this, sounding almost proud. “These are my kids. They deserve the best. You know them, you know what they’re like. And you’re basically family - you know about every skeleton in our closet.” 

Yeah, that was probably convenient. Stiles already knew about the shit Talia’s brother had pulled over the years - because he’d heard his mother discussing it with Talia, and later with Stiles’ Dad as well, trying to figure out if there was something they could do to help, even from all the way across the country. Stiles had added his two cents, mostly about how Peter Hale should have been locked up somewhere ages ago. He’d mentioned magical malady institution Eichen House because of its creepy atmosphere and terrible reputation. 

His parents had laughed and privately agreed. And never told Talia. 

“And I can come visit without the gossip sites exploding,” Stiles knew exactly where this was going. “You can invite me and my parents - or even just me - and it will be framed as a nice fluff piece about Senator Hale never forgetting where she comes from and who her friends are. Can’t get that from any other mage.” 

The silence that followed made it very obvious that this had been one of Talia’s considerations in hiring him - or attempting to hire him. It would be easier to play it off for the press, to keep it a secret and act like it was just a hometown reunion. 

Which meant that there was a reason for the secrecy. 

“So they can’t know that you know?” Stiles questioned. 

“No,” Talia quickly responded. “The public can’t find out that someone had access to my children, and if I go public with this, another layer of the curse will be triggered.” 

Of course there was another layer. This was not going to be a simple curse - and there were probably multiple different courses on each child. Well, not that they were children. Stiles knew that Cora was about 2-3 years older than him, Derek would be about twenty-nine now, and Laura in her early thirties. Stiles was only a barely grad student. 

Could he anonymize this and use it for his studies? That might help. 

“Blackmail, then,” Stiles mused out loud. 

“Will you come?” Talia sounded hurried now, voices clamoring in the background. “I don’t have much time to discuss the details. My husband will contact you to arrange everything. We’ll pay, whatever you want. Your flights, whatever you need. Please, Stiles.” 

Was he ever really considering saying no to her? His mother would have murdered him in his sleep (no, she wouldn’t have, she’d just have threatened it). And Stiles had never been able to turn his back on family in need, even though she hardly even felt like family anymore because he talked to her so rarely. That didn’t change the fact that she still was family in all the ways that mattered. And maybe this would be a way for his Mom to finally spend time with her again. 

His parents didn’t exactly have a lot of extra funds lying around to take a cross-country trip. Not when they had two mortgages because of the time his mom got sick, right after the Hale family left for DC. Medical bills were no joke. 

So he could do something nice for his parents and help Talia in one go. 

And really, he deserved a break from his school work. 

“Of course, Auntie Talia,” Stiles knew exactly what to say. 

“Thank you,” Talia sighed heavily. “See you soon, Stiles. I’ve missed you. Tell your mom I’d better see that gorgeous ass of hers soon as well.” 

Well, at least Talia continued to be mortifying even when she was basically running the country - or would be, if she got the chance to win the election. Or to even properly run. 

“Tell her yourself,” Stiles huffed, but of course Talia had already hung up. 

Those politicians and their crazy demands. 

* * *

Samuel Hale picked them up from the DC airport, accompanied by a chauffeur slash bodyguard that made Stiles feel like a twig in comparison. Boyd, as he was apparently called, was several inches taller than Stiles and a whole lot bulkier. He also exuded the kind of calm that made Stiles feel less frantic than he had been before getting into the armored car. 

Oh, Stiles knew it was armored. It had to be. 

“That’s some nice spell work,” Stiles commented, while his parents reunited with Uncle Sam. 

Uncle fucking Sam. That never got old, even though he wasn’t actually the one in politics. 

“I owe the Senator five bucks,” Boyd commented, sounding almost pleased even though he didn’t move a muscle “She’d told me you’d be able to sense it. My guy said that it was undetectable.” 

Calming charms were common in a profession like Boyd’s. Though most weren’t made for werewolves - that made it an even trickier piece of magic. Stiles would have been more impressed if it had actually been undetectable. 

“You cannot indulge her gambling like that,” Stiles’ Mom interrupted their conversation to joke with Boyd. “I’ve lost many a bet because she cheated and used werewolf senses.” 

Sam seemed amused at that, before turning back to Stiles’ Dad to continue their conversation, probably about baseball. They always liked to talk baseball, which yeah, the Mets were clearly the most superior team ever, but Stiles didn’t actually care about baseball. He’d just been indoctrinated about the right teams very young and knew exactly what to say when asked. 

“Are you assigned to Uncle Sam, or do you guys switch around?” Stiles thought that was enough with the pleasantries. 

Boyd’s face almost moved at the Uncle Sam comment, but alas. Had he actually been trained in England with the Buckingham Palace guys? Stiles would not be surprised. 

“We switch,” Boyd deftly moved them into traffic. “It’s too obvious if it’s the same person and the same pattern every time. “I’m just the best driver out of the bunch. Erica would have killed all of you in a fiery crash by now. That or cussed like a sailor. My mate is not subtle.” 

Mates. Stiles hadn’t heard the term in a while - Scott had pretty much banned the usage of the word after Allison had moved back to France with her father after her mom died in the hunter-wolf conflict of Beacon Hills when they were still in high school. But most wolves preferred to use mate over the more common - or more human - husband or wife, or partner. 

“You’ll like her,” Uncle Sam told Stiles. “Erica does not take anyone’s… bullshit. You won’t be offended if I curse, right? I haven’t been able to talk freely in ages.” 

Right, because of the cameras and the microphones. Because they were wolves in the public eye, and therefore they were subject to unwritten rules that humans were not. They had to be exemplary, had to be better than humans. They had to seem balanced at all time, because wolves that were out of control could not be leaders. And any wolf that growled or flashed their eyes or fangs or claws in public was deemed to be out of control. 

There were a few exceptions, mostly wolfsbane related, but mostly wolves were only respected if their hold on their anchor was strong, unwavering. 

“Can you talk freely?” Stiles glanced at Boyd. 

“Boyd is aware of what’s going on,” Samuel nodded. “He’s a close friend of Derek’s, and his entire team is in the loop. That’s him and Erica, Isaac, who’s another beta that Derek has taken under his wing, and Laura’s mate. He’s a Hellhound.”

A fucking hellhound? Stiles was going to get to meet an actual hellhound? This was the best job ever, and it had barely even started. He’d reacted a lot like this when he’d found out his high school crush Lydia was a banshee - she’d basically told him to fuck off and not treat her like even more of a freak. She ignored him and continued to rule the school with her scaly boyfriend by her side. Speaking of freaks… Fucking Jackson. 

“Oh God,” Stiles’ Dad had apparently spotted the look on his face. “I haven’t seen him this excited since Christmas when he was eight. Stiles, son, please compose yourself.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes at his Dad, even though all that got him was a laugh. Dad just knew him far too well, because even though the man claimed that Stiles was basically an exact copy of his mother, he was actually a lot like his Dad as well. 

“I remember that face,” Samuel just had to make it worse. 

“I hate all of you,” Stiles muttered under his breath. “I did not come here for all of you to discuss my embarrassing childhood antics. I know there are many. I was there. But please do it out of my earshot, at least. That way I can pretend that you have accepted I’m an adult.” 

Parents were, and probably always would be, embarrassing. And now that the Hales and the Stilinskis had been reunited, Stiles had to get ready for a whole lot of embarrassment. 

“They grow up so fast,” Mom wiped away an imaginary tear. 

“Don’t I know it,” Samuel wasn’t nearly as joke-y about it. “Laura is mated. I’ll probably be a grandpa soon. Cora’s found a nice boy she wants to mate with - maybe when she’s back to normal we can do that. And Derek… Maybe he’ll stop studying at some point and make friends with people. Not just his bodyguards. Normal people.” 

Boyd didn’t even respond, but there was an uptick to his lips that told Stiles he knew that the comment was meant to be humorous. Boyd clearly had a solid sense of humor that he didn’t really show while on the clock - and Stiles was not sure if that was a conscious choice for serious reasons, or some kind of bet or joke that he had going on with Uncle Sam or any of the other Hales. Would his old friends really ask him to be serious at all times? 

“Damn it Vernon,” Samuel huffed a little at his driver. 

“Yes Mr. Hale?” Boyd (who was apparently Vernon Boyd) acted all innocent about it. 

Right, so it was a joke. That made sense. 

“This is why my son likes you so much,” Samuel sighed heavily, like the big drama queen he’d supposedly always been. “You’re both too good at being quiet and judgmental. If Derek raises his brows at me one more time, I swear I’ll…. He really looks too much like me.” 

Why was it that while Stiles mostly remembered Laura babysitting him, and Cora treating him like an annoying little brother, it was Derek he was most excited about seeing again? Was it because teenage Derek had been kind of ridiculously cute? And Stiles had been able to watch him grow into the ears and the bunny teeth and those serious brows - he’d only gotten hotter since his awkward teenage years. 

But it wasn’t just about how cute Derek was. It was about how Derek had always been so very serious, so withdrawn, hiding in books instead of showing everyone how incredible he was at baseball (the world’s most boring sport) because the high school didn’t exactly have a wolf-appropriate physical education program he could take part in. Stiles tried to distract him from his books many a time, and usually it worked, even though Stiles knew that was mostly because he annoyed the crap out of him. Derek didn’t actually like him, not in the way Laura and Cora always had. 

Would they still? Depending on the curse, maybe. He wanted them to. 

“I can’t wait to see the kids,” Mom actually looked excited. “I haven’t seen them since their awkward teenage years. Talia’s shown me some pictures, but I’m sure they don’t do them justice. I hope they remember their auntie Claudia.” 

They were in the same boat, at least. And if the Hale kids hadn’t been cursed, maybe they would have been able to commiserate about the impending reunion and its inherent awkwardness. But they were, and now Stiles was going to be the only normal one in the group, which really was not a position he found himself in very often. 

“They’re very excited,” Samuel cringed as he said it. 

So clearly the curses were involved there. Clearly Stiles had work to do. 

* * *

When he finally saw Laura, Derek and Cora again after about fifteen years, he immediately knew just why Talia had sounded so worried on the phone. 

Their auras - yeah, it was a hokey word, but it was the only one that seemed to capture exactly that gut feeling that Stiles got when he looked at them - were pitch fucking black. When they should have been bright and colorful, with minor blemishes if they had a lot of things to be concerned about. 

Derek’s was the worst of them all - the kind of pitch black that douche of douches Anish Kapoor would be jealous of. So either he’d been worse off already before the curse, or the curse on him was particularly nasty. Probably because he was a man, and the caster had assumed that meant he’d be able to withstand a whole lot more. 

That would be a lead on the caster - somewhat of one, because misogyny was surprisingly present in mage circles. They were never going to accept that women were much better at dealing with pain - Stiles had seen what chains they put on newly turned wolves, and there was a reason why female wolves had to have their skulls drilled into. Because they could handle some manacles and some chains. 

Because females were strong as hell. 

At least right now that was going to work to his advantage - it means that curing Laura and Cora was going to be a little bit easier than he’d expected. Derek was going to require the most work - which had always been the case. 

“Mischief,” Laura opened her arms, a pleasant smile on her face. 

It was the creepiest smile he’d ever seen her wear - there was nothing actually genuine about it. So either there was some possession involved in her curse, or, well… He didn’t know the or yet, he was mostly considering the possession option. Because while Laura’s voice sounded almost normal, her body wasn’t acting normally at all, moving jerkily and like someone was trying to pull the correct strings and mostly failing. 

“My favorite babysitter,” Stiles tried to smile at her as if nothing was wrong. 

It was jarring, but also… surprisingly simple. It sounded like a puppet curse, and those could be broken down in a matter of days. Hours, if he really threw himself at the problem and didn’t take breaks - which was probably a bad idea if he had three people to cure here. 

But yes, so far he was thinking puppet for Laura. 

“I was your only babysitter,” the comment was so very Laura. 

“Well yeah,” Stiles shrugged, trying to play along. “No one else could handle me, or was crazy enough to want to. And they didn’t have that wolfy stamina.” 

If it really was a puppet curse, it was a weird one. Either it wasn’t all that good, only affecting Laura’s movement and physical body (and not her mental faculties) - or the person pulling the strings had gotten really good at pretending to be Laura. Which meant that they might have been watching her for quite some time. And that meant that Stiles definitely had to talk to her mate to see if he’d noticed anyone. 

He really was going to meet a Hellhound. He was inappropriately excited about that bit. 

“Or my brains,” not!Laura added. 

“Oh my God Laura,” Cora huffed and flipped her hair. “Can you just like, not hog him? We all want to see him again. It’s been for freaking ever. Last time I saw you, you had a buzz cut. Not your best look, I must say. You’re looking pretty good now.” 

There were so many things wrong with this that Stiles almost didn’t even know where to start. 

One: Cora’s voice had completely changed. She used to speak in a very no nonsense voice, almost gruff. She was obsessed with martial arts and comic book heroines, and was very focused on imitating the physicality of her favorite heroes. She liked the one-liners too, and was pretty good at the Batman growl, but usually those were more Stiles’ territory. If she didn’t just ignore him and treat him like a kid. 

Two: The Valley girl speak. Stiles was worried he’d gotten stuck in the movie Clueless. It wasn’t just the cadence of her voice, it was the vocabulary too. Cher would have loved it. Stiles did not. 

Three: Cora Hale using freaking when she could have just said fuck? Something was definitely rotten in the state of Denmark. Sure, she might have gotten the habit trained out of her by one o the many publicity and public relations people her mother was always surrounded by, but in a private moment like this? Cora would have said fuck. Several times. 

Or a Polish curse word - Stiles had taught her a couple of those, and he’d wondered if she still remembered some of them. 

Four: Was she trying to hit on him? Because hell no. Cora Hale would never do that. Not the real Cora Hale, anyway. 

Clearly this was kind of like an evil twin thing - or an opposites curse. She was wearing pink, and her hair had highlights and she was dressed to the nines, really. This was the most feminine that he’d ever seen Cora. She used to hate skirts, used to borrow Derek’s clothes - or Stiles’ - if there was ever a time where a skirt or dress was the only option. 

“You’re looking… very Elle Woods,” Stiles really tried to make it sound like a compliment. 

Because well, nothing against Elle, because that woman was a fucking badass. It just really was not a good look on Cora - or, not in a Cora who was in her right mind. 

“Thanks,” not-Cora practically squealed. “She’s basically my idol. So glad I’m doing her justice. Pink is totally my color. Maybe I should go blonde.” 

So far the curses weren’t all that physically dangerous, but they were disturbing, and showed that the person had some access to the Hales. They knew what the kids would find most traumatizing - they’d managed to play on Cora’s biggest fear, at least: having to confirm to a girly-girl stereotype and losing her individuality. Being forced to be someone she was not. 

And Laura hated feeling out of control. She was the next in line to be Alpha, and she had always been proud of how good she’d been at controlling the shift. She’d mastered the full shift before they’d left for Washington, and she’d showed off for Stiles, easily going back and forth between human, wolf, and beta-shifted. Laura was a powerful woman, always on top of everything, and an excellent leader. Right now she was doomed to follow along. 

Which meant that Derek… Was definitely getting the worst of it all. 

“Hey Derek,” he held out a hand, trying to see what would happen. 

Derek just growled, and then appeared to startle himself with it. He jumped, and it would have been comical if he hadn’t looked genuinely scared. 

“Derek doesn’t talk,” Boyd explained calmly. 

“He never has,” Stiles winked at Derek. “We’ve learned to find other ways of communication. I’m sure I can learn to become fluent in brow-speak again. I used to have entire one-sided conversations with him. Well, not one-sided. It was just that my side was the only verbal one.” 

There was another growl from Derek, and then a frustrated yip. Stiles startled at the sound, and watched Derek retreat behind his sisters. This was a scared animal he was seeing, and if Stiles made any surprise movements, Derek was either going to run away or attack. Because there was nothing left in him but animal instincts. 

That was the cruelest of them all. Leaving Derek feral and unable to communicate, when he’d already struggled so much with communication. This was intended to isolate him even further, to keep him locked away from the public until he was basically the animal that the wolf-opponents always claimed the wolves to be. 

Stiles wondered if there was a plan to let him get even more feral, to frustrate him and anger him until he lashed out and hurt someone. That way he’d prove them right. 

“Missed you too, Sourwolf,” Stiles hoped the familiar nickname would help. 

He bowed his head, showing respect to what was essentially a wild animal, and then exposed his neck, hoping that Derek would recognise the sign of submission even in his feral state. If the sign appealed to his instincts, telling him that Stiles meant him no harm. 

They’d never needed words before, Stiles didn’t need to start now. 

Which was why he both was and wasn’t surprised to find a werewolf advancing on him, sniffing at the air. Stiles tried to project only calm and certainty, and he kept his neck on offer, waiting to see just how close Derek was willing to get, and just what his intentions were. Stiles really wanted to see how much of Derek was still in there, underneath the instincts. 

The licking was definitely a surprise though. Derek moved fast, and almost without any noise, until his face was buried in Stiles’ neck and he could lave at the skin, licking and nibbling and biting at the skin until Stiles was sure that his face was as red as an Alpha’s eyes. He was so glad that the parents had walked off in search of Talia, so that they could discuss what the hell was going on with the curse. They knew that Stiles needed time to meet his old friends on his own - though they probably had not been expecting this bit. 

To be fair, neither had Stiles. 

Boyd had taken his cues from Stiles and had not pulled Derek off, hesitant to trigger a feral werewolf who essentially had his teeth at the curse-breakers neck. Good - Stiles could work with a man like that. 

“You did good, Derek,” Stiles told him, knowing his heartbeat wouldn’t make him a liar. “You claimed me. That’s good. I’ll stay now, because you asked me to.” 

It wasn’t a traditional werewolf claim, but this was definitely somewhere on the list of werewolf courting rituals, the ones that Stiles totally hadn’t spent a lot of time jerking off over when he was an impressionable teenager. It seemed forever ago that he’d jerked himself almost raw thinking of how Derek’s incoming scruff would rub over his skin and leave marks on his stupidly fair skin. It had been years since he last wondered what being courted would be like. 

He’d just gotten a whole bunch of new info that he really needed to process on his own. Which was probably going to be an issue - because a feral wolf was not inclined to leave their intended mate alone. For safe-keeping, not for stalking. 

“Shall we go in?” Boyd requested - even though it wasn’t meant as a request. 

“Yes please,” Stiles pasted on a grin. “If Der-Bear here will let me go long enough to step foot inside. Or we can go together, that’s good. Is there a place he feels safest?” 

The question made sense, because while Laura and Cora were also cursed, they still acted mostly human. They wouldn’t be startled by strange scents or any other people coming into what they thought of as a safe space.

Derek was the real issue at the moment, and not just because Stiles knew that there were a whole bunch of courting and claiming rituals that wolf-Derek probably really wanted to get started on. Ones that Stiles wanted to research first, because while he was happy to go along with this part of the curse for now, he didn’t actually want Derek to be stuck with him once he got back to normal. 

Though, well, claiming a stranger - or practically a stranger - didn’t make a whole lot of sense in combination with the rest of the curse. Though, having Derek’s will taken away in this would probably be like torture to him - and leave him unable to find his real mate. 

And Derek had always been a romantic. 

“The study,” Boyd answered, and Stiles really was not surprised. “He’s built himself a nest there, and it’s big enough for all of us to talk in. He doesn’t like his room much anymore.” 

That was both stupidly adorable - a nest, probably from blankets and pillows that smell like people Derek deemed safe - and a punch to the gut. Because a wolf not wanting to be in his own den anymore was never a good sign - that meant that the den was no longer safe, that someone had tried to harm Derek in that very room. Perhaps the caster? Perhaps they got to him and cursed him in his own room? Or Stiles was just overthinking it and Derek not wanting to be in his room was related to him getting scared off by something silly. 

He was really hoping it was the latter, but he honestly doubted it. They just didn’t have that kind of luck. 

“Wanna take me to your den, big guy?” Stiles didn’t dare touch Derek unless he initiated it. 

Not-Cora sighed and rolled her eyes in the background, and Stiles missed the needlessly violent awkward nerd more than anything. At least that girl would have supported her brother. 

“Someone should record this for posterity,” Not-quite-Laura joked. “Derek’s finally taking a boy home. Mom will be so proud when she finds out about this. Now she and aunt C can finally be a real family. Maybe they’ll stop hitting on each other.” 

Yeah, there was still some of Laura in there, which meant that maybe her being a future Alpha had helped her soften the blow a little. That and Laura Hale was a fucking badass who could beat anything, even a stupid curse. No way that a curse let her say something so ridiculously Laura. Especially the bit about hitting on each other, because Stiles had heard the real Laura joke about it before, back in the day. Before she offered to marry him off to Cora so that they could finally be a family. 

Of course Cora vehemently refused. And punched him. 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Stiles told her. 

Derek yipped as Stiles’ attention moved away from him, and Stiles almost moved his hand to Derek’s hair. Because it sounded like a dog, wanting to be pet - or a wolf who really wanted his intended for himself. It was shyly possessive, and Stiles was stupidly endeared by it. 

“I’m here, big guy,” Stiles turned back to Derek. “Wanna lead the way? Show me that den of yours. I know you want to get my scent all up in that.” 

It seemed that Derek at least somewhat understood what people were saying, because he started herding Stiles towards the door, his movements graceful yet unsuited for a fully human body. Stiles wondered if Derek could do the full shift too, and if his moves made more sense that way. At least the licking and biting happened in human form. 

There were some boundaries left, apparently. 

“Ugh, I can’t be smelling this right now,” Cora stepped inside and immediately strode off somewhere, followed by a lanky guy with blonde curls. “Boys are gross.” 

Okay, now that bit wasn’t even all that out of character for the Cora he’d known back in the day. 

“Isaac will look after her,” Boyd remarked as they all stepped inside the house. “He’s not very happy that his mate has turned into a pod-person who hardly even acknowledges him, but he’s a professional. If it’s too much, Erica will take over. She’s good at girl talk.” 

Boyd’s dry wit was kind of a delight - Stiles totally understood why this guy was Derek’s best friend. By getting to know Boyd a bit better, he was also getting a better grasp on who adult Derek was as a person - a surprisingly likeable guy who still understood the value of sarcasm, and treated an employee as an equal in every way. And a sassy asshole, probably. 

“Erica would like me to tell you that she heard that,” Boyd was actually smiling now. “And that she will be punishing me for it later. Privately.” 

No shame - exactly the right kind of person to completely embarrass Derek. Just like Laura did back then (and still, now), Erica didn’t take any shit and shared way too many personal details. 

“Excellent decision,” Stiles muttered, trying to keep his attention on Derek before the feral man got frustrated or scared again. “Now, Der-Bear, where are you taking me? Are you going to take good care of me? Are you going to provide?” 

Laura was making gagging noises in the background - vintage Laura, really - but she still followed them down the hall and in the direction of what Stiles presumed was Derek’s den. (The room previously known as Talia’s study, he assumed. Or perhaps it was Derek’s own study, seeing as he was apparently still a student of some kind. PhD maybe? Was Derek going to be that annoyingly hot professor that all the freshmen boys and girls drooled over?)

“Will you let Boyd and Laura come with us?” Stiles asked when they reached the door. 

Derek was still half draped over him, unable to let go of him for even a second. Right now it was just an arm around him and Derek’s face in his neck, occasionally teasing the undoubtedly ludicrous mark he’d already made. 

Stiles was definitely going to have some ‘splaining to do to their parents. Fun. 

“Please?” Stiles had to try it. “For me? To keep us all safe with you?” 

It seemed to help at least a little, as Derek clumsily pushed into the room - the door had been left unlocked, because Derek probably didn’t have the presence of mind to deal with locks and door handles. He gently herded Stiles in the direction of a pile of blankets near the window seat that Stiles immediately started drooling over. The blankets (and a few pillows) were in a nice patch of sunlight, and the nest was not quite big enough for two - maybe if they squeezed together really tight. Which was probably what Derek intended. 

Was this the moment where Stiles would have to have a serious discussion with his dick? Because he was trying to be professional - and boners were very much… not that. But if he was going to have Derek all up in his business, that was bound to happen. 

Because grown up Derek was gorgeous, even more so in person. He was bulky and wore the comfiest of loungewear (probably because it was the easiest to make him wear), his dopey wolfy grin making him seem so very happy. He looked out of it still, but honestly he appeared to be thrilled about it, as long as Stiles went along with his ideas. 

“Apparently we’re snuggling,” Stiles announced as Derek pulled him down into the nest. “This is a thing that is happening. Please don’t judge me for any bodily responses. I’m only human, and Derek is still superhumanly hot. And he was adorable as a teenager, so that’s really saying something. Like, I think he was my first real person crush. I mean, I think I wanted to marry both Ariel and prince Eric at some point, but Derek was the first real person that I… Did I mention that I start babbling when people make me nervous, because - FUCK!” 

The babbling was almost a way to self-soothe as Derek pushed and pulled at him until Stiles was the little spoon in a tightly packed nest, with Derek completely wrapped around him and half on top of him, pressing Stiles’ body tightly against his. And with Derek (and Laura, and Boyd) still able to smell exactly what that proximity was doing to Stiles, there was no hiding from any bodily reactions. Though Derek’s reaction was a bit more obvious, pressed up against his ass. 

And then the rubbing started. Stiles wanted to die - the little death only. 

“You’re doing really good, Derek,” his voice was not nearly as steady as he wanted it to be. “Do you think you can not embarrass me in front of your sister and best friend? Yeah, no, I figured that was too much to ask. You’re being a good mate, Derek. Yes. Good. You’re keeping me close and keeping me very safe. Maybe later you can get me some food, huh? I’m hungry.” 

He probably should not have said that, because in his feral state Derek was likely to hunt for some very, very fresh game just to provide for him. He didn’t think a feral wolf would dig through the pantry - or maybe he would, if that was the only place he had access to. 

Stiles was praying there wouldn’t be any raw meat. He had his limits. 

“Curly fries?” Laura asked, because she was still the best babysitter. 

“Laura, I love you,” Stiles declared, his heart full with the feeling. 

Derek growled, because apparently jealousy was a thing a feral person understood. Derek clung to him a bit more and started mouthing at the back of Stiles’ neck, clearly intent on leaving another mark on Stiles. More ownership marks were better in the eyes of a wolf, after all. 

“Love you more, Derek,” Stiles rushed to appease him. 

And judging by the lack of anger from the wolf, he wasn’t even lying. So that was a terrible thing to find out about himself. Especially right in front of his two-person audience. 

“Jordan, babe,” Laura hollered when she heard footsteps. 

Did she just ID her mate based off his footsteps (or maybe a hint of his scent)? Laura Hale really was an impressive woman, and Stiles was going to worship at her feet as soon as the feral werewolf who was clutching him like a hot water bottle would allow it. Because even though she was cursed, Laura was still herself, and she was still somehow making it work.

“Laura,” a ridiculously attractive man entered the room. 

Clearly, Stiles should have moved to Washington ages ago, because apparently there was something in the water here that made all of the people ridiculously attractive. Stiles had yet to meet a single person who would be out of place on a magazine cover. It made him feel plain and a bit unattractive in comparison. 

Derek snarled at the new visitor, and Stiles trembled, so close to the fangs. 

“Derek, it’s okay,” Stiles tried to soothe. “I was just thinking stupid self-deprecating thoughts because your sister’s mate is ridiculously attractive. It doesn’t mean I love you any less.” 

Okay, he really needed to stop saying the L-word so much. 

“Wow, Derek must really like the new guy,” Jordan the Hellhound was taking in the Stiles and Derek nest. “He hasn’t touched anyone but Talia since… the bad stuff happened. Not voluntarily anyway. There has been some trial and error.” 

That was just sad. Derek had been isolated already, only able to accept some semblance of comfort from his Alpha. Because Stiles was sure that even a feral wolf would accept the Alpha’s authority - at least to a certain extent. But at some point even that was going to fade away, and Derek was going to be left a feral Omega, ready to go rabid at a moment’s notice. 

And that was why his bond with Stiles was important, even though it wasn’t actually anything real for normal Derek. It might have been his attempt to keep himself from going completely over the edge - a bond that linked him to a human, that allowed him a connection outside of the pack. This was a desperate Derek, trying to grab on to anything he could. Even if that anything was a boy he hadn’t seen in fifteen years and hadn’t liked much then. 

“He’s been pretty up close and personal with me,” Stiles kept his voice at a steady volume, trying not to startle Derek. “I’d greet you in person, but this big lug probably won’t let me go until he’s cuddled me into submission. So, hi, I’m Stiles. Claudia’s son. Laura used to be my favorite babysitter. You must be Jordan. Which makes you a lucky man. Laura’s the best.” 

This time, Derek just huffed a little, but he didn’t actually seem angry or frustrated. This was just his way of trying to be sassy about disagreeing with Stiles. Which was just… really cute.

“Yes, Der, that’s a figure of speech,” Stiles murmured at Derek. “I know that you are actually the best, the very best at taking care of me. You’re leaving another mark, huh? Trying to make me even more yours? Smart. Very smart. You have to make sure that you get to court me.” 

Really, if he was going to be stuck in this study for the foreseeable future, he might as well dig in to some books about courting. He had to know what he was in for - because he was going to be around for a while, trying to untangle all of the enchantments working to curse the Hale siblings. Laura’s was the most simple of the bunch, and even hers was going to take a couple of days.

“Derek would find his mate at a time like this,” Jordan smiled. 

“That’s not,” Stiles stammered, trying not to freak Derek out. “I’m just… That’s not it.” 

Another huff at the back of his neck, where Derek was still working on leaving more ownership marks on Stiles’ sting. He was going to have the worst case of beard burn, and his parents were going to laugh at him for all eternity, possibly. 

“Derek seems to disagree,” Laura quipped. “I always knew he was the smart one.” 

Now that was just rude, and Stiles absolutely would have unleashed the snark in response, were it not that there was a wolfy grin at the back of his throat, and Stiles was not going to do anything that made Derek stop smiling. From what he remembered from the olden days (yeah, no, that was weird), Derek didn’t actually smile a whole lot. So the fact that he was smiling now, in his feral form, that was supposed to leave him prone to things like anger and fear, that meant a lot. And Stiles was not going to be the one who ruined it. 

“Yeah, you’re very smart, Sourwolf,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Now, are you going to let me help your sister, or do I have to stay in our nest a little while longer?” 

In response, Derek pressed even closer. 

Right. So he was staying. Potentially forever. 

* * *

It was only because Stiles’ stomach started growling that Derek let him out of the nest. And Stiles took advantage of the facilities while Derek hunted for food (the pantry really was a treasure trove, apparently). Laura and Jordan had been in and out of the room for the past few hours, but they hadn’t been disturbed otherwise. 

Boyd had probably informed his parents by now - Stiles really didn’t want to face their smugness, not any time in the foreseeable future. His Dad was just going to gloat, and his Mom was going to make fun of him. And Stiles just wasn’t down for that right now. 

“You’re such a good provider,” Stiles told Derek, risking a quick pat to Derek’s arm. 

He was curious if Derek would allow touch from Stiles, where he’d allowed no one but his Alpha before. And unsurprisingly, Stiles was once again an exception, because Derek leaned into the touch, and made a vaguely disappointed noise when Stiles had to use both hands to finish his pretty damn delicious food. Stiles made sure to eat quickly. 

“Thank you,” Stiles told Derek when he finished his food. “That was delicious. You picked very well. You’re a good mate. Now will you let me help your sister a little?” 

The curse on Laura was best extinguished in bits and pieces - or rather, the layers of the curse. If he could start right away, and did multiple sessions each day (and gave himself several hours to recuperate from each attempt), he’d have her back to her mostly normal self in about three days or less. Maybe a bit more, if he could start working on Cora as well, even just a little bit. 

So far Derek’s was the only curse where he didn’t have any idea where to start. Right now his only plan was to figure out the courting - just so he knew what to expect - and to take his time winning the feral wolf’s trust, so that Derek would actually let him poke around at the curse. 

“Yes?” Stiles asked when Derek didn’t immediately drag him back towards their nest. “Do I get to help Laura now? Yeah? You’re such a good brother.” 

Stupidly, a part of him almost missed the nest. It was surprisingly comfortable, and Derek was basically a space heater. It felt oddly safe, and now that he had to start dealing with the real world again, he’d rather be back in the nest. 

“He is,” Laura said, voice choked up. 

Oh boy, was this the ‘if I don’t make it’ moment that some people got when they were cursed and getting ready to risk a removal? It had happened to him before, but he hadn’t expected it from Laura - or, not from the Laura he remembered from back in the day. That girl hadn’t been nearly as outwardly sentimental about anything - especially not her siblings. Because she’d been in that phase where siblings were to be ignored, mostly. 

Clearly, things had changed since then. Stiles didn’t know if it was for the better. 

Derek responded to the pain in his sister’s voice by gently headbutting her in the arm, almost like a dog looking for his owner’s attention. Laura choked on a laugh, and didn’t dare to attempt to touch him in return. That was probably going to be too much. 

“Alright,” Stiles finished setting up the circle. 

It was a modified version - because he’d figured out really quickly that it was a terrible idea to have candles in the same room as feral Derek. Stiles didn’t remember all of the details, but while the Hales had moved to Washington to advance Talia’s career, Derek’s only visit back home (with his then not quite crazy uncle) had ended in flames, when someone tried to attack them by locking them in the house and setting it ablaze. 

For him, there were no good memories in cleansing fire. Only trauma. 

“I’m going to start poking at the curse a bit,” Stiles tried to warn Laura. I need you in the center of the circle. It might sting a little, but if anything actually hurts - like, even werewolves feel a lasting pain, hurt - tell me. I’ll stop. Derek, you can watch from outside the circle. I know you’re a great protector, but your presence in the circle will keep me from helping your sister. And we both know that you want to help your sister. More than you want to help yourself.” 

Stiles would have sworn that Derek understood exactly what he was saying, because he stepped outside the circle - just barely outside it - and stood guard, eyes going back and forth between Stiles and Laura like he was watching tennis at Wimbledon. Stiles tried so hard not to be ridiculously endeared by it - he probably failed at it. 

Even feral, Derek was really good at this mate thing (don’t forget that research, Stiles). 

“Story of his damn life,” Laura huffed. 

“Yeah, we’re discussing that at some point,” Stiles turned his gaze to Laura. “Hell, you can even keep talking now. It’ll keep you distracted while I start being creepy and invasive.” 

The connection between the cursed person and the curse-breaker was really intimate, and while Laura was probably prepared for some of it, Stiles really wanted to make sure that she knew what she was getting into with this. So maybe it was best that she told him some of her stories before he had to start poking around in her metaphysical body and found out himself. 

“No one’s told you how I met Jordan, right?” Laura started talking, because the drama queen genes that were so prevalent in the Hale family certainly had not skipped her. 

“No, I haven’t actually had any time to discuss the mundane stuff,” Stiles let her talk. “You can just keep talking. I’ll be a bit more quiet than I usually am. Or a lot more quiet. It’s probably weird for you, but I have discovered that I can actually be quiet for long stretches of time.” 

Laura gasped dramatically, because she knew him as a kid. And really he couldn’t blame her - even Derek huffed out his little wolfy laugh. Which, thanks for that, future not-mate. 

“I am in awe,” Laura held out her hand at Stiles’ silent request. “So, I did the whole college thing on the East Coast. Not in Washington itself, because I did not to be in school with just political wanna-bes who wanted to be friends with me to get closer to my mother. So I went to New York, and I did my thing, and I got all the best grades, and I figured out that pre-med was actually a really interesting track to be on. There was hardly any research about wolf healing that wasn’t done by hunters who’d just been torturing wolves, and well…” 

Both Laura and Derek visibly cringed, and Stiles tried not to notice too much, as he gently placed two fingers in the middle of Laura’s open palm, and curved his other hand around the back of Laura’s neck. There was a brief sting when he made contact, because the curse had to have a defense mechanism for people who tried to get too close, but the sting faded soon enough. Stiles closed his eyes and focused entirely on Laura and the tangled red strings that pulled and pushed at her limbs - in vain, in the safety of the circle. 

“I wanted to do research,” Laura continued, her voice only wavering the slightest bit. “Not just about wolf healing, but about all kinds of beings. How they healed, and how some of their properties might be used to help heal others. Directly, like werewolves and the way we can drain pain people are feeling, but also magical ingredients, or enhancing natural immunities.”

Stiles hadn’t actually known what area Laura had chosen to focus on, even though he’d heard many a joke about auntie Talia’s daughter, the doctor. About how Laura was going to help them all live forever - that made a lot more sense in context. 

Someone who wanted to use her body to heal people didn’t deserve to have it used against her like this, so Stiles gently started to untangle some of the strings mentally trapping Laura’s arms, pulling at knots slowly so that he could figure out which knot was connected to which limb and which deeper layer of the curse. The hands seemed like a nice place to start - extremities were easier, it was going to get harder once he got closer to the heart and the brain. But hands and maybe Laura’s underarms? That was doable for one session. 

“Jordan works as a firefighter,” Laura continued, making a face as the feeling in her arms slowly started to return. “His natural resistance to fire makes him super effective, and when he heard of a werewolf doing research to help humans, he just jumped on board. I wanted to ask him out since the very first time we met, but that would be unethical.” 

It didn’t really sound like she’d been too worried about that - or well, maybe a little, but it hadn’t actually stopped her from mating with him. Or maybe that didn’t happen until after. Stiles didn’t particularly feel like asking for the details. 

Besides, he was trying to save her, one limb at a time. The fingers were easiest, and then the wrists followed quickly after. He couldn’t get much further than the elbow, though, not without pushing the curse - and he’d learned that outright pushing was never a good idea. It was better to slowly move the boundaries of the curse until it had no room left and he could easily extinguish it. That would be in a few days. 

“It took him several months to muster up the courage,” Laura sounded like she was grinning. “It was kind of adorable how he was all shy about it. I maybe milked it a bit too much.” 

Of course she did. She was Laura fucking Hale. 

Stiles gently prodded at the edges of a curse a little bit more, until he almost reached Laura’s shoulders. He then built what other people called a block, a barrier. He locked out the curse, at least from this part of Laura’s body. He gave her free reign over most of her arms, and waited to see if the curse would attempt to lash out at the metaphysical door he’d locked. 

But the lock held, even though the curse tried to break it down. 

“Oh,” Laura whispered. “Did you just? My arms. I think I can… Oh.”

Yeah, it was probably a bit weird to have not only the feeling come back, but the nerves that connected Laura’s brain to those arms had been reconnected properly. So she actually had control of them, so that the impulses from her brain were no longer barred from going to that part of her body. Stiles had cut the metaphorical strings on this part. 

He opened his eyes, almost flinching back at the bright light luminating the circle. 

“Can you get Jordan for me?” Laura turned to the door, where one of the bodyguards was undoubtedly keeping guard outside. “Please. I just want to hold his stupid hand.” 

Stiles felt himself soften at that, at the love in Laura’s voice, about how such an innocent thing was the first thing she wanted after this part of the curse had been lifted. So much had been taken from her in this curse, and there was no way that she’d be allowed to go back to work for a few days yet - but at least there was something that she could do now. 

“Cue the Beatles,” Stiles teased, pleased at his progress. 

“Can we break the circle?” Laura questioned. “You look tired, and I think Derek won’t let me hoard you for much longer. He might want to sleep with you.” 

That moment, Laura was every bit the annoying older sister that she’d always been to Derek and Cora, teasing them about boyfriends and girlfriends and other partners. Stiles had never been involved in those conversations before, since he’d barely been a teenager when they left, and even though he’d already been in love with Lydia Martin… It wasn’t really something that Laura teased him about - not ever. Not like she was teasing him now. 

“Don’t do that,” Stiles stuck his tongue out at her, and ignored Derek’s growl. 

“You are in for such a surprise,” Laura promised him, “when you cure Derek and absolutely nothing changes. Well, okay, he might say some actual words, and do more kissing than just licking, but… he’s still going to want to sleep with you.” 

He’d never known Laura to be that much of a vicious liar before. Sure, the teasing about Derek being the opposite of verbose, that was completely on brand. And even the joke about kissing versus licking was not too far out of the norm. But the idea that Derek still wanted to sleep with Stiles even after they’d broken the curse - together, they’d do it together - that was laughable and actually kind of cruel. Playing with their feelings like that. 

Not that Stiles had any real feelings to play with. No, not at all. 

“You’re full of shit,” Stiles said before breaking the circle. 

He kept most of it intact, just so he could easily put it back together for the next session - he just broke one connection that would be an easy fix. If Laura or Cora or even Derek needed him to do some more curse-breaking after he’d had a nap, he was going to be able to oblige. 

But not before he’d had that nap. 

“You rang?” Jordan practically ran into the room. 

“Come here,” Laura ordered, and hardly even waited for him to follow orders before grabbing at his hand and holding it tightly. 

They weren’t really touching anywhere else, probably because Laura didn’t really want to risk it - she wasn’t cured yet. But their hands were touching, fingers intertwined, and Laura looked down at their hands. She probably would have been smiling if she had full control of her face. 

“What are you doing?” Jordan sounded unsure. 

“Stiles lifted a part of the curse,” Laura gloated, clinging tightly. “And I just wanted to hold your stupid hand. Because I can do that now. Everything else is still fucked, but I have my arms back. And my hands. So I can hold yours.” 

Jordan’s eyes were wide, going back from staring at their hands to staring at Stiles and back again. He let out a shaky breath, and then another one. 

“It’s like we’re in high school again,” he teased. 

“Oh, you were a virgin in high school,” Laura went right for the jugular. “This is not all I was doing in high school. But I probably shouldn’t tell you in front of my brother. He walked in on me a couple of times, but I really don’t want to scar him any more than I already have.” 

Derek growled softly and laid claim to Stiles, as Laura and Jordan slowly made their way outside of the study. Stiles caught a glimpse of Isaac before the door closed again, leaving him alone with a frustrated feral werewolf. 

Who really just wanted to hold him, probably, so Stiles opened his arms when Derek approached, only to have Derek move slightly to the side. He clumsily pawed at Stiles’ hand - thank God there were no claw issues - until Stiles held out his hand to him, waiting mostly patiently to see what Derek was going to do next. 

“What’s wrong, Der?” Stiles asked, watching Derek tilt his head. 

He was clearly contemplating a very difficult move, and Stiles wanted to help, but he was also kind of interested in seeing what would happen if Derek had to figure it out himself. 

Which he did, pressing his hand to Stiles until they were awkwardly holding hands. 

“Oh, Derek,” Stiles’ heart had been ripped from his chest. “Derek.” 

Stiles had to help him then, had to move them until their fingers were intertwined, an awkward imitation of Laura and her mate. Derek and his not quite mate. 

* * *

Three days later, Laura was mostly cured, and it was time for his first session with Cora, who’d continued to be annoyingly pink and peppy. Not that Stiles minded people who were pink and peppy - if that was who they wanted to be. 

It just… It wasn’t who Cora was at all. So he had to do something about it. 

In front of an audience, apparently. Because when it concerned his almost-mate, Isaac was not going to stay away. He wasn’t going to keep watch from outside - he was going to stand there and monitor everything Stiles was doing with sharp eyes and a sardonic smirk. Really, Stiles had no idea what Cora saw in him, other than his looks. 

Isaac was an asshole - had been an asshole to Stiles until Stiles had mocked his scarves and Isaac retaliated with a stupid comment about him being a pity-mate… Which a fiercely angry Derek had quickly put a stop to by attempting to growl Isaac into submission. 

Stiles hadn’t forgiven Isaac, clearly. 

“You can’t go in the circle,” he repeated the rules again, for Isaac’s sake. “Yes, that means you too, Sourwolf. I know you hate it, and I know you wanna cuddle me at all times. I promise we’ll cuddle after, and you can sniff me to your wolfy heart’s content.” 

Ignoring Isaac’s snickers was not easy, but it was getting easier the more focused he was on Derek, and the way those ridiculous eyes of his followed Stiles wherever he went. Because Stiles wasn’t lying - he was actually stupidly looking forward to getting back into the nest and blocking out the rest of the world. He’d already worked on Laura this morning, and this was just the first of two sessions he’d had planned for Cora. He was exhausted, and cuddling with Derek somehow seemed to make everything better - easier. 

“And lick me,” Stiles grudgingly allowed it. “I know you’re all huffy that your marks are fading, so clearly I need more of those. I’ll let you do that. After this. And you have to ask for it.” 

If he ever got any privacy ever again - Derek had basically been following him everywhere, including to outside the locked bathroom door - he was going to have a serious discussion with himself about his newly discovered marking kink. Because he’d apparently started liking it way too much, to the point where Erica - if she was the one standing guard - would holler at him to keep it in his pants whenever she smelled his arousal. 

Which happened a lot during the aforementioned licking and biting. 

At least Stiles’ parents didn’t have super sniffers to sniff out Stiles’ arousal. Talia and Samuel did, but they’d been born wolves, and knew not to remark on it. Erica enjoyed being rude about it, was gleeful about pointing it out that none of the other wolves matched. 

“He can’t talk,” Isaac needlessly reminded Stiles. 

“That doesn’t mean that he can’t communicate with me,” Stiles turned his back to Isaac yet again. “The brows alone speak volumes. Don’t be a dick.” 

Especially not to the guy who was helping his mate - but Stiles was not going to point that out to him. Isaac would get it eventually, even if it wasn’t pointed out to him. Once Cora started showing signs of being her normal self again, he’d appreciate Stiles. And Stiles would flip him off a little and then accept the reluctant thanks he was offered. 

“I’m going to make you talk now, though,” Stiles stepped into the circle and made sure it was fully activated. “So Cora can focus on the sound of your voice. I’m assuming that since you’re basically mated, she actually likes the sound of your smug voice.” 

Derek huffed out a laugh, and Stiles was so charmed by that sound that he had to take a second to look at Derek. The grin was all wolf, baring his teeth in a not quite human way, but Stiles had grown to like that stupid wolf grin. He wondered what it would look like on Derek’s wolfy face, and what his real human grin looked like. If he just kept at it, kept earning Derek’s trust, he’d probably be able to start working on him soon. 

Perhaps even after he worked on Cora. Maybe he’d switch the schedule a little. 

He probably had a bit of an ulterior motive there, to want to see Derek at least a little restored before he finished all of the werewolf courting rituals, but it had been almost five days now, and while Laura was doing well, Cora was still mostly the same, and while Derek had definitely improved in his attitude towards Laura and even Jordan, nothing much had changed. He still clung to Stiles like a full-grown security blanket, only letting him out of the nest for the bare necessities and to heal his sisters. And for the rituals. 

“I know you don’t like me,” Isaac started, and Stiles reached out to Cora. “That’s fine. I don’t need you to like me. But we’re going to be family.” 

Stiles’ eyes shot open, because what? What the  _ fuck _ ? Was this another attempt at making Stiles believe that feral Derek and normal Derek were more alike than he thought? Because he knew they were alike, but he was also very aware that he was just a lifeline. Derek didn’t actually want to mate him. If he had, that would have manifested way sooner. 

“Derek chose you,” Isaac continued, and Stiles felt safe enough to close his eyes again. “He took one look at you and decided. That makes you family, whether you like it or not.” 

Was Isaac actually trying to screw this up? He hadn’t considered the wolf in sheep’s clothing angle - yeah, that was just so much funnier now that the world knew about wolves - but he was definitely willing to consider Isaac a suspect. After all, the Hales were cursed in their own home - most likely in their own rooms. And since he suspected Isaac shared Cora’s bed quite a lot before the curse… It made him an obvious suspect. 

And if they’d been together for years, like he suspected they had, and still hadn’t mated officially - well that was just even more suspicious. Stiles was keeping his eye on that one - metaphorically, because he couldn’t actually open his eyes at this point. 

“I was already family,” Stiles kept his eyes firmly closed. “Now stop antagonizing me.” 

Auntie Talia and Uncle Sam - Laura had referred to Stiles’ Mom as aunt C. That was what family was - it didn’t have to be blood, or mates. Sure, those were the bonds most commonly accepted by wolves. But they were not the only valid bonds, not to humans. And if someone like Talia readily accepted them, her betas had better fall in line. 

Okay, maybe that was a bit much. But Isaac just knew how to get to him. 

“I’ve been family,” Isaac continued to be argumentative, making Derek growl warningly. “I get it, Derek, you don’t like me disagreeing with your perfect little mate. How easily you drop your girlfriend just because this guy shows up.” 

Derek had a girlfriend? How come he hadn’t reached out to her when the curse struck? The mate thing would be a solid reason, but since Stiles knew that wasn’t actually true… 

Yep, okay, Derek did not like Isaac exposing him like that, or ragging on Stiles. Stupid protective mate. Stiles already liked him way too much. 

“Derek, don’t,” Stiles didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Derek was pretty damn pissed and ready to attack. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m going to help your sister. Isaac is just really worried about her. He’ll learn that it’s not okay to take that out on someone else.” 

For some reason, Derek actually seemed to listen to him - which was a good enough reason to give healing Derek a shot after he’d tried Cora. If he had their connection to use as a starting point, he probably wouldn’t even have to take a nap first. It was easier to work off an existing connection, rather than having to build a new one (or rebuild an old one that had fallen into disrepair after fifteen years of distance). 

Cora had been impossible to connect with when cursed. 

“Will you just help her?” Isaac turned to pleading instead of anger, which was surprising. 

Stiles’ hand was over Cora’s eyes - that was where his magic told him to be, just as it had told him to reach for Laura’s hand. Since Cora’s curse was based on a distorted version of herself - maybe even a distorted vision… The eyes made sense. 

He tried to reach through the connection and found himself awash with the tide, washing up at a familiar lakeside in the woods of Beacon Hills. So there were no strings this time, Cora’s curse had chosen to manifest in a completely different way, by showing Stiles the Cora he knew and once loved and hated like a sister, staring at the now placid lake surface. 

“Stiles,” she said, and he saw her eyes were cloudy. “I can’t see. I can’t see me.” 

When he tried to be her eyes, trying to see her reflection in the surface of the lake, he only caught a distorted reflection that looked nothing like Cora. It looked a whole lot like the Cora-imposter the curse had created, though. 

He was forcibly reminded of high school, when Jackson had been his slithery self, terrified of water because he couldn’t understand his own reflection. He didn’t know who he was, and though Cora did know exactly how she was, that person was still very much out of reach to her, and therefore left her disconnected from her own reflection, her own image. 

Stiles said nothing to the Cora in his mouth - not speaking was so very important here - but he jumped into the lake, trusting that she’d jump in after him. She knew how to do it. Cora was always the one who jumped first and waited for Stiles to follow. 

Maybe the familiar waters would help, immersing her in the past, in the things that made her into the person she was today. Reminding her of the person she was, while at the same time ruining the distorted reflection of her. 

“Is she okay?” Isaac was talking him, but it was like Stiles was underwater now. “Look, I know you really don’t care for me, but can you at least trust that I love her. Cora is abrasive and fierce and she’d rather fight than feel, but I really do love her. She’s it for me, and I never thought I’d ever deserve anyone, let alone someone like her.” 

The connection to Isaac set both him and Cora adrift in the water, slowly being dragged along by the current until they’d drifted back to reality. Stiles could have sworn that Cora had followed him back, but he had no idea how much of her he’d managed to bring back. It was probably going to take several more trips, being her eyes and showing her the way back to her real authentic self. He was happy to do it, but he needed to know if this was the way. 

“I’m feeling so much better,” Cora answered the question for them, still in that disgustingly perky tone. “I’ve been going in blind, and Stiles is helping me see. I know it sounds dumb and all heavenly bullshit, but it’s totally working. I think. Ugh, I hate this voice.” 

The words were Cora again. The tone and cadence? Not so much, very Valley girl-esque - but the words were Cora’s. They were exactly what they real Cora would have said to a question like this one - at least, to someone that she trusted beyond all reason. It wasn’t something she would have said to Stiles, or to anyone of her old friends. 

So Cora at least really loved Isaac. And Isaac’s feelings for her were strong enough to pull them back. So maybe, just maybe, Isaac wasn’t the bad guy here. 

“Don’t break the circle yet,” Stiles warned. “I have to make sure to build a raft. Something to keep her afloat in the sea of confusion, so to say. I know it’s a shitty metaphor. Work with me.” 

Because Stiles still had his eyes closed, trying to leave a raft with the blinded Cora back on the lakeside, he couldn’t see if Isaac was following his orders. But he didn’t feel a disturbance, and he trusted that Derek would intervene if Isaac did want to try anything. 

“Right,” Stiles pushed the raft ashore with his mind. “That’ll do.” 

He took a little while longer to open his eyes, trying to make sure that it stuck. He took several deep breaths, getting a hint of Derek’s scent from outside the circle. That helped, for some stupid reason, even though most humans didn’t exactly use scent the way that werewolves (especially born wolves) did. But Stiles had started to associate that scent with safety, with their nest, with warmth. With mate. 

Even though it wasn’t actually real. 

Stiles opened his eyes to the cold hard truth. 

“You’re still a terrible swimmer,” a perky-voiced Cora complained. “Seriously, do I have to teach you again? Have you been afraid of water since?” 

Now that was just rude - which was a really good sign that they were getting the real Cora back from the void of pink. Cora didn’t care much for niceties, especially not when it came to Stiles, someone she’d always considered a bit of a pest. Or at least, that was how she acted with him most of the time. Like he was an annoying relative that she couldn’t help but love. 

“I’m sorry that I’m not up to your exacting standards,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “It might not be pretty, but it kept me from drowning when I had to hold myself up in a pool for several hours because there was a Kanima trying to come for me. So, there.” 

Look, Stiles had seen some shit, and even though he’d never gotten the moment he fantasized about, in which Lydia fell into his arms because he’d saved her from the creepy slithering murder monster that Jackson had somehow turned into… Well, he’d still come out mostly whole and on top of things - his supposedly unimpressive magic had done that much for him, at least. 

“Kanima?” Isaac sounded reluctantly impressed. 

Derek yipped, which meant that he needed Stiles to be a whole lot closer right that very second - see, Stiles could totally have a conversation with Derek without him having to use actual words. Stiles was not ready to break the circle, not when he wanted to have a shot at Derek’s curse, but he was willing to deactivate it for a moment. He’d have to readjust anyway, because a circle aimed at Cora was not going to work perfectly for Derek anyway. 

“Yeah, I’m a badass,” Stiles smugly stepped out of the circle before Cora did. 

“Delusions of grandeur,” Cora cheerily remarked. 

Stiles flipped her off before letting Derek paw - hah! - at him. Derek pressed his face into Stiles’ neck, and for once Stiles was glad that the attractive scruff had turned into the beginnings of a beard, because for once it didn’t feel like Derek was rubbing at his throat with sandpaper. Somehow the beard was a bit softer than that - not that the beard burn and the reminder of Derek’s presence on his skin wasn’t totally doing it for him, because there was no way that Stiles could convincingly deny that bit. Everyone saw through him. 

Damn werewolves and their lie detector skills. 

“I’m here, Derek,” he whispered, even though he knew the other wolves could hear. “I helped your sister, and I came back safe. For you. I’m safe. I’m still yours. For as long as you’ll have me. Which is probably just until I break the curse, but that’s fine.” 

Derek growled, a bit more angry than Stiles had expected. He didn’t usually get this frustrated at Stiles, but then again Stiles had probably sounded a bit frustrated and sad, and he’d quickly found out that Derek really didn’t like that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you want to prove me wrong?” Stiles apparently thought that arguing with a feral werewolf was a great idea. “Just step into the circle then. I’ll power it back up, just for you, and I can have a peak at the inside of your head. I’ll let you hide the weird dreams you undoubtedly have about any werewolf-related kinks that I won’t discuss with your sister and her asshole mate in the room. I’ll even cuddle you while I probe you. And yes, I’m very aware of how dirty that sounded, you don’t need to laugh at me. Yes, that laugh.” 

Isaac and Cora hadn’t left yet, and Stiles really didn’t want to look at them - because he was sure he’d find some judgment there, and he knew they were bound to see through his stupid rambling at some point. And he wanted to postpone that as much as he possibly could. 

“We’re leaving,” Cora announced, dragging Isaac along. 

“Erica will be right outside,” Isaac had to get out the last word. “I’m sure she’ll be delighted on any weird scents she catches a hint of while you have that kink negotiation.”

Stiles huffed under his breath about asshole werewolves and low standards, unable to look at Derek for a second there. Because it sucked having his stupid hopes exposed like this - if Derek remembered everything after he turned back to normal, he was going to have to reject Stiles nicely. And that was really going to suck. 

There was another yip, and Stiles prepared himself for wolf cuddling. 

“Oh, Derek,” he turned to find his wolfman in the circle, waiting for him. “Are you sure? You don’t have to just because I’m an impatient asshole. I mean, I totally want to help you get back to your normal grumpy self as soon as possible. But you need to trust me for this bit. Because I’m drawing on the mate bond instead of my own reserves.” 

Derek didn’t move away, he just stared at Stiles with that look he was starting to recognize, the one that seemed to mean something along the lines of ‘Stiles you idiot’. It usually meant that Derek had already decided and there was no changing his mind about any of it - he’d worn the same look when Stiles had tried to get him out of the room while he took a shower. Which… to be honest had been mildly awkward but not as bad as he’d been expecting. 

And he really didn’t need to think about that too much with Erica outside, on sniff duty. 

“Alright then,” Stiles stepped inside the circle as well, quickly going through the motions of activating it, and tailoring it to Derek. “Can you feel that? That energy is focused on you. It’s our energy. Yours and mine. It’s the spark of our connection. It was very smart of you to initiate the mate bond. I’ll be even better at helping you this way. I want to help you, Derek.” 

There was no way that Stiles could convincingly tell Derek that he only wanted to help him - because there were many more things that Stiles wanted, and none of them were things he could say out loud in front of a mostly feral werewolf. 

“Ready?” Stiles asked, opening his arms to Derek. 

Derek practically leapt at him, pressing them closely together. When the magic told Stiles he needed to be the one with his teeth at Derek’s neck, Derek only protested briefly with a quick growl, before just letting Stiles do it. As if he wasn’t a badass werewolf whose every instinct supposedly told him that Stiles was the one who had to submit to Derek. As if it was perfectly normal to let Stiles threaten to return the courting bite. 

He couldn’t actually bite him, that would strengthen the connection in a way that Stiles wasn’t ready for - he wasn’t sure if he ever would be. Not that it mattered, since this was temporary. 

“I got you,” Stiles whispered, knowing Derek would hear it regardless of volume. 

His eyes were falling closed before he’d consciously made the decision to close them, and he was quickly swept away with the wind. 

The scent of the breeze rushing through the Preserve back home, a hint of sulfur that told of magic, and a dark hint of fire that made a shiver run down Stiles’ spine. The presence of evil was somehow more prominent here than it had been when he visited Laura or Cora. For Derek, it was right at the front of his mind, instead of pushed back. It almost seemed as if Derek had let it overtake him for a while, and had only started fighting back later. 

Stiles tried to push the connection outwards, that golden thread running between him and Derek - his way of visualizing their fledgling mate bond - and wrapped the both of them in a soft golden light. Stiles tried to expand the light, throwing it in the direction of that rotten scent, the one that was fire and wolfsbane and darkness and - love? 

“Derek?” Stiles felt compelled to call out for him. 

A wolf’s howl behind him, and Stiles turned around immediately, only to be faced with a large black wolf with bright blue eyes. He knew it was Derek right away - not because he’d examined the evidence, like he usually did - but because he just knew. And when he acknowledged that he knew, he could see the golden thread wrapped around the wolf’s front paw. The other end of the thread was knotted tightly around Stiles’ right wrist. Unbreakable, a strong knot that Stiles would never be able to untangle. Not uncomfortably tight, but way too strong. 

Terrifyingly strong. 

Stiles opened his eyes. 

* * *

It was almost weird to be out of the study, to be in a different room with people who weren’t Derek. He didn’t actually mind all of the people, it was just weird that Derek wasn’t right there with him, at Stiles’ side where he belonged. 

Yeah, so those thoughts hadn’t exactly gone away after he’d stupidly attempted to break the connection. Because he got scared that an obviously fake connection might actually be real - it couldn’t be, no matter what his traitorous thoughts kept trying to tell him. Derek had a girlfriend, and Stiles was just a placeholder, around until he broke the curse. 

That wasn’t any kind of incentive for him to break the curse - but he felt awful for thinking that. 

“Thank you, Stiles,” Laura didn’t quip, for once. “It’s nice to have control of my body back. Jordan really appreciates it too.” 

And there was the lascivious quip he’d been expecting the whole time. Because it didn’t matter to Laura that both of her parents and both of Stiles’ parents were right there with them. She just wanted to gloat, and show off how ridiculously happy she was with her mate and her life back to normal - or as normal as it got in the Hale family, especially with two of Laura’s siblings still very much cursed. Or, not that much, in Cora’s case. 

At least he’d been making progress there. 

“Everyone knows how much he appreciates it,” Erica did not feel any shame about going there, apparently. “Please be sensitive to your fellow wolves. At least wait until you get back to your nice, sound and scent proofed room next time. Or Boyd and I won’t show restraint either.” 

Before any potential orgies were threatened, Talia coughed pointedly, trying to keep everyone on track. Uncle Sam was hiding his grin, but Talia was at least a little bit better at keeping a straight face. Unlike Stiles’ Mom. His Dad just looked resigned - because he probably had been expecting this too. John Stilinski was always ready to roll with the punches. 

“Clearly Laura is back to normal,” Talia nodded decisively. “Cora’s doing much better. I’ve heard her curse at least a dozen times today. Which makes me think that we should have installed a swear jar. We could have funded my entire campaign that way.” 

The adults shared in their amusement, while Stiles just dreaded the inevitable questions about Derek. Because while Laura and Cora had been living proof of Stiles’ abilities, Derek had practically howled when Stiles had walked out of the study. He hadn’t wanted to leave, and he especially hadn’t wanted to leave Derek behind, but… But what else was he going to do? Live in the study all the time and get too caught up in the lie? He couldn’t do that. 

‘You missed me,” Cora’s voice was almost back to her usual deadpan. 

“Maybe a little,” Samuel held the tips of his fingers only millimeters apart.

The sass was definitely hereditary, and Stiles almost wanted to smile at the obvious love and affection that they shared. His own relationship with his parents was much the same - which was probably why he hadn’t talked to them much over the last few days, knowing that they were just going to see right through him and his stupid feelings. 

“Any progress on finding the caster?” Talia turned to Boyd, then. 

That was unexpected. Stiles had mentally been halfway through a stupid excuse about Derek’s curse being significantly more complicated and being forced to take it slow - when he realized that no one had actually asked him any questions about Derek. And they should have. 

Stiles had to ask, had to know. “Aren’t you going to ask me about Derek?” 

“It’s written all over you,” Laura grinned mercilessly. “You look like you’re about to cut out and run back to your little nest. You smell like Derek’s been rubbing himself all over you, even though you supposedly showered this morning. It’s obvious.” 

To wolves, maybe, and to Stiles too - and he didn’t mean for that to make him so happy. He didn’t mean to enjoy it when Derek pushed and pulled at him until he was curled up in the nest and Derek could basically crawl on top of him until Stiles only smelled of  _ them _ .  _ DerekandStiles _ , a scent he wanted to be able to smell himself. It was probably a little gross, but for once Stiles wished he was a werewolf. He wanted to be able to feel it too. 

“Yeah, no progress,” Stiles sighed heavily. “Has anyone been in touch with Derek’s girlfriend? To make excuses? I’m sure he’ll want to return to her when all of this is over.” 

There would have been a spit-take there if most of the people in the room hadn’t been werewolves (or other supernatural beings, sorry Jordan). Stiles’ parents seemed surprised too, but they didn’t have the kind of stake in this that the Hales and the guards did. Because they were supposed to know what was going on in this house, and so far only the siblings had been aware of it. As far as Stiles knew, anyway. 

“Derek has a girlfriend?” Talia’s eyebrows were a sight to see. 

“It’s a secret,” Cora, surprisingly, was the one who answered. “He doesn’t want us to know about her, even though he was terrible at hiding her scent. We figured he’d tell us when he was ready. But now there’s Stiles, so… It doesn’t really matter anymore.” 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was just a fake thing - Derek was cursed and hadn’t been able to see his girlfriend, so he latched on to the first available target. 

“Of course it matters,” Stiles cringed when his voice cracked. 

“Still?” Isaac said, mockingly shaking his head. “You’d think you’d have seen sense by now.” 

Yeah, Stiles really was not in the mood to be dealing with any of Isaac’s usual bullshit. Sure, Isaac had been a bit less of an asshole since Stiles lifted a couple more layers of the curse, but he still really did not seem to like Stiles. At all. 

“Isaac,” Boyd rumbled, disapproving. “Tell me more about this girlfriend. Laura? Cora?” 

Derek was owed his secrets, probably, but it was exceedingly hard to have secrets around werewolves, especially with a team of bodyguards on the premises all the damn time. So Stiles totally understood why Derek’s sisters had let him keep a seemingly harmless secret. But the time to speak up was now. Because what if this woman hadn’t been harmless? 

“He didn’t actually tell us anything,” Laura looked a bit uncomfortable. “He just smelled of the same woman sometimes, and the scent was in his room. Only in his room. I’ve never smelled it anywhere else.” 

So this woman had only ever been in Derek’s room.  _ Fuck _ . 

“Wait a fucking second,” Stiles felt like he was in the right to curse a little. “Derek has a secret girlfriend, and her scent is in his den? His den he avoids like the damn plague now? Can someone with a super sniffer go into that room and look into this already?” 

Boyd was the first to move, but Erica was close behind. Isaac stuck to Cora like glue, which probably wasn’t a bad thing if there really was a nefarious presence somewhere in the house still. The mystery woman probably wasn’t around anymore, but there was no need to take any more risks than had apparently already been taken. By not letting the guards know about a secret presence in a house that should have been impenetrable. 

“Poor Derek,” Jordan said what they’d all been thinking. 

The curse on Derek was suddenly starting to make a whole lot more sense. The isolation might not even be strictly curse-related - guilt had to be involved there as well. Derek’s mystery girlfriend had betrayed him and used his affection to curse all three of the Hale siblings - so clearly the entire relationship had been a front to get what she wanted. 

How had an anti-wolf activist gotten so close to Derek?

Stiles closed his eyes and tried to shut out all the other people in the room and look for the connections, for the magic he’d been sensing in the various curses. 

He had to start with Laura, seeing only green string (for solved) that was no longer all tangled up, because she was in control again. There was no puppeteer involved anymore, how far away he or she might have been. 

So he moved on to Cora, and found himself stuck on the mirror just behind her, the one that reflected the real Cora instead of a pink facsimile. Soon the reflections would match entirely, and Stiles’ work on her would be done - but for now, there was just a hint of residue that Stiles might be able to distill and use to track down the source of the magic. 

“Let him work,” Stiles heard his Dad saying. “He’s putting it together.” 

The metaphysical signature still clinging to Cora had been all over Derek when they’d met again after all their years apart. It was the darkness in Derek’s aura (ugh, that word), and the scent of wolfsbane and gun oil sharp in his nose - even though Stiles wasn’t actually a wolf and therefore couldn’t smell anything that wasn’t actually there to smell. So this was the scent of the magic, or at least of the person whose power had been used to anchor the curse - that didn’t necessarily have to be the caster. 

When Stiles separated that scent from the scent of the curse, he almost gagged on the chlorine smell that suddenly overpowered him. 

He knew that scent. He’d felt that power before. 

“Find Matt Daehler,” Stiles ordered, his eyes still closed. “He can tell you who paid him.” 

From the gasps he’d heard, the name sounded familiar to at least one person. Good. That meant that they were going to get him. 

And Stiles was going to get Derek for them. Even if he broke his own heart doing it. 

* * *

Privacy wasn’t actually all that important for this, but he had to try to make it up to Derek, make up for leaving him behind while Stiles revealed secrets he wasn’t supposed to know. Sure, he had most of the right reasons, but it still didn’t give him the right. 

“Alright buddy,” Stiles forcibly used the most platonic of the many nicknames he’d tried on Derek, “we’re just going to give this another shot. I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to be, but we’re getting somewhere. I promise. We’re going to get her. Boyd and Erica are close to finding her caster. They’ll get her too. I promise.” 

He wasn’t in any kind of position to make promises like that, but he did it anyway, because he couldn’t stand the look on Derek’s face. It was tragically human, and it was Stiles’ least favorite face so far - Derek looked distraught, cracked open, broken apart, and a little terrified. Stiles wanted his dumb wolfy grins back, the way he carelessly pushed and pulled at Stiles until he fit into Derek like his missing puzzle piece. Like they were actually mates. 

Stiles needed to do something - anything - to fix this. 

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles had to say it, even though Derek didn’t want to hear it. 

The pained cry escaping from Derek’s throat wasn’t quite animalistic - animals didn’t feel guilt like this, didn’t get torn apart by their own emotions like this. This was all too human, and Stiles had rather Derek remain fully feral than only feel this. 

“Please, Derek,” Stiles sunk down into their nest, instead of stepping into the circle. “You’re a good mate. Come back to me, please. I’m here.” 

He didn’t fully understand what he was saying and why he was saying it, until he recalled some of the pages of the books he’d finally been able to read while Derek napped earlier (mostly on top of Stiles, which did make reading a bit more of a challenge than it usually was). This was Stiles’ part in the courting ritual, offering himself as an anchor in a moment where the wolf was unable to be his own anchor. Offering safety. Offering a home in his arms. 

It was an initiation into the next step of courting, a more mutual step that Stiles had been hesitant to pursue, due to the temporary nature of this little… arrangement. 

“Alpha, Beta, Omega,” Stiles pulled Derek in closer, gently tracing the middle of Derek’s back, where he knew the triskelion tattoo to be. “Past, present, future. Focus on my voice, focus on your pack. We love you. So come back, come back Derek. Follow the spiral, see how it never really ends. Alpha, Beta, Omega. Past, present, future.” 

Derek dug his face into Stiles’ armpit, getting at the most concentrated scent of him - well, actually, that would have been in his groin, but boundaries. Maybe he’d finally managed to teach the feral wolf some boundaries. That was going to be much safer for Stiles’ well-being once Derek got back to normal and went back to hating Stiles - this time for taking advantage. 

“I smell really ripe, I’m sure,” Stiles almost laughed. “But that’s okay, I know you like that, you big weirdo. You can get as sniffy as you want. I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit. I’m tired.” 

The wolfy laugh huffed into the ticklish skin near his ribs made him twitch, but Stiles was determined to close his eyes and let Derek have this moment without being concerned about what Stiles would see. He let his eyes fall shut, and took a deep breath. 

In seconds, he had to close his eyes more firmly, to keep from getting blinded by a golden glow. 

Somehow the connection was still there. It didn’t require a circle, probably because Stiles hadn’t actually shut it off last time, after his failed attempt at getting Derek back to normal. It meant that it was so ridiculously easy to feel out Derek, to try and look for that beautiful dark wolf. 

But when Stiles arrived at that place, he was greeted by a different Derek, one with no eyebrows (how the hell did that even happen) and mutton chops and a raised forehead - a Derek that was teetering on a cord between wolf and human - the beta shift, something he’d never seen Derek do before, not even when they were kids. The Hales never really shifted in front of him - with the exception of Laura, when she’d mastered the full shift and wanted to show it off for a captive audience. And Stiles really was a captive audience. 

“Hey you,” Stiles told him, needing to announce his presence. 

“Stiles,” a gravelly voice responded. 

Holy fucking shit. Holy shit. Oh fuck. Oh shit. Derek was talking, and the first thing he’d said after all this time was Stiles’ fucking name. That was not okay. It really wasn’t. 

“You talk?” Stiles had to ask, like a total asshole. 

“Yes,” Derek said, his voice still so rough from disuse. “Hard. Try. Stiles. Help. Good. Mate.” 

Right, so he wasn’t actually back to normal yet - but the beta-shift was a sign that they were making progress, somehow. Stiles didn’t actually know how that was happening, because it wasn’t like he’d actually done anything but fail at making a difference for Derek. But apparently even failing helped, because Derek was a little more human on the inside, and he’d managed to form at least some words, even though he couldn’t quite string them together properly. 

“I don’t understand,” Stiles helplessly replied. 

Some of it he understood - it was incredibly difficult for Derek to talk, to rewire his brain to a more human state, one in which he could use his vocal chords to do more than howl and growl and yip and huff. It was hard, but Derek was trying. That much he understood, that and the fact that Derek was asking for help - by making Stiles his mate? Was that what that was? 

“Stiles,” Derek repeated, pained, annoyed. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, because somehow he knew that would help. “Derek.” 

And help it did, because Derek sighed and managed to retract his claws, allowing Stiles to get a little bit closer to him. Stiles was still a bit hesitant to actually move, not sure how feral Derek’s instincts still were, but he allowed himself to take the first step. And then another, and another, until he was within touching distance of the beta-shifted werewolf. 

“Stiles,” Derek was smiling, fangs bared, and it was only slightly terrifying. 

Or actually it wasn’t all that scary at all. Because it was still Derek, a more human version of him who for some reason still wanted to be close to Stiles. Could he ever say no to that?

He’d have to start practicing it soon, for after, when he’d broken the curse, but for now he was just going along with it, pressing himself closer to Derek. He had to make sure that Derek smelled of him too, that there was a warning sign that told anyone who’d try to hurt Derek that he had a mage looking out for him, albeit an unconventional one who didn’t actually know all of the tricks. But he was resourceful and wily and he was never going to let Derek get hurt again. 

So he squeezed Derek a bit more tightly and hesitantly opened his eyes. The nest was still there, and Derek was still right there too, looking completely human, of course. 

“Stiles,” Derek rubbed their cheeks together and smiled. 

* * *

Hearing Derek’s voice out in the real world, so to say, had been even better than just hearing it in the more metaphysical realm. Or whatever the technical term was for the not quite real place that was established inside someone’s head, some place that only the person themselves and a mage could access. The liminal space? Something like that?

Not everyone could go as simple yet classic as the guys from Stranger Things. 

Not the point, though. 

So after clinging to Derek for a little while longer - he was only human after all - he’d gotten off his ass and finished healing Cora. The last remainders of pink had disappeared before he’d revealed that Derek was starting to talk again. 

At first, Isaac was too happy getting insulted by his mate-to-be to realize that Stiles had said something extremely important, so it took Erica’s loud comments to get everyone to listen long enough so Stiles had time to explain the progress that had been made (editing out most of the mates stuff, because no way was he getting any more involved in that shitshow). It was kind of rude how surprised everyone was that there was progress, but at least it was a good surprise. 

The reveal of Matt Daehler’s client was a not so pleasant surprise. 

Boyd and Erica had returned with a familiar name on their lips: Katherine Argent, daughter of Talia Hale’s opponent in the Senate and perhaps a future opponent in the race for the presidency. Gerard Argent was a bitter old man who was viciously anti-wolf and would cut down anyone who seemed to think that the wolves were more than animals. Even if that someone was his own son, or his granddaughter. 

No wonder Allison and Chris hadn’t left France in years. 

“Someone has to talk to Derek about this,” Erica said, and everyone had turned to Stiles like he was the only option here. “He can talk now. We need him to talk.” 

Usually he applauded Erica’s mercenary side, the side that kept fighting even though people would have called it a lost cause. The side that was willing to do whatever it took to keep the people she loved safe from harm - even if she had to hurt them to do it. Usually Stiles was ready to side with her. Not when it came to Derek, though. 

“No,” Stiles shook his head, and tried to keep his movements from becoming erratic. “I’m not making him do anything. He’s barely talking as it is. I’ll talk to him, I can tell him what we discovered, but it’s up to him what to do with it. If he’s ever going to get back to normal, we need him to choose his life over his guilt. We need to give him back his old life, without that bitch. We need to show him what he’d be coming back to.” 

It was not going to be Stiles. That was not what Derek was coming back to - even though Derek’s girlfriend had never actually been Derek’s girlfriend, Stiles wasn’t actually Derek’s mate. He was just a stop-gap, a temporary solution, a way for Derek to keep from going completely feral before Stiles managed to pull him back. It was just efficient to tie himself to Stiles in another way as well - another connection that the curse would have to tear through before it could win. Something that Kate and Matt had not taken into account. 

That was all it was. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Cora sighed, acting like it was the hardest job in the world to have a conversation with her brother - which it maybe was at this point. 

Isaac followed her, still unwilling to let her out of his sight since the curse had only just been lifted completely. He was coddling her, being almost disgustingly overprotective, and Cora only grudgingly allowed it because she could recognize how worried he’d been about her. Stiles still had very little sense of how that relationship worked, but he’d kept his mouth shut. 

Because he wasn’t like all of these people trying to interfere in his non-relationship with Derek. 

“How much do you know about mates?” Boyd was the one who asked, much to Stiles’ surprise. 

“I know as much as I need to know,” Stiles didn’t want some epic speech to persuade him into thinking that it could actually be real. “I’ve read all the books, while Derek kept me pinned in the nest. I had to do something to keep myself occupied. So I know. I’ve read about all the rituals, and about all the instincts. Derek is all instinct right now - he’s had no time to think about it.” 

Mates were all about instinct, about how the wolf and the human were in agreement that this was the right person, a snap decision that Derek would have a lifetime to regret. He’d been running entirely on instinct - barely any room for the human to get a word in, so to say. Maybe the wolf had just liked how Stiles smelled, vaguely familiar, and the survival instinct had told him to claim. That was a last ditch desperate instinctual thing - not anything calculated. 

Stiles just didn’t want Derek to get back to normal only to be stuck with a curse-breaker with terrible social skills and serious attention issues (fuck yeah ADHD). He knew that there had to be someone better out there for Derek. Some nice wolf lady, or something. 

He couldn’t do any worse than his last girlfriend, after all. 

“He’s had fifteen years to think about it,” Erica was actually rolling her eyes at him.

“I can’t be here right now,” Stiles rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, every intention of going right to his ro-. 

His room. The study wasn’t actually his room. There was still a room for him somewhere upstairs, probably collecting dust because Stiles hadn’t managed to sleep in an actual bed for a single night of his visit. Because he’d been sleeping with Derek instead, getting beard burn on the back of his neck and getting intimately familiar with Derek’s hardening dick rubbing up against him. It was going to suck having to sleep without it. 

But he’d just have to get used to it. 

“Kiddo,” his Mom found him roaming around upstairs. 

“Mom,” he sighed and stepped into her open arms. 

There were times when nothing helped, except for a hug from his Mom. Because she was just like him, and she managed somehow. She managed to get her life together, and get married and have a kid and raised him right (or well, the best she could do with a guy like him). And she was just, always there for him. Ever since they’d almost lost her, Stiles had been pathetically grateful to be in her presence. It was probably the reason he was still in California, staying with his parents as much as he could. Because he knew it wasn’t forever. 

“You picked a hot one,” she told him, and Stiles just groaned. “He’s got some of the best parts of Talia’s genes, and the only good bits from Samuel. Don’t tell him I said that.” 

Knowing his Mom, she was going to tell Uncle Sam that herself, gloating all the while - as if she and Samuel were actually rivals for Talia’s affection. Stiles really did not know how that friendship somehow worked, but he certainly was not getting in the middle of it. 

“You’re embarrassing,” was all he told her. 

“What else is new?” Mom quipped, still holding him tight. “I live to embarrass you, which is why I’m going to live forever, and why I’m going to tell you that you have sex hair right now. Even though you haven’t had sex with him, sadly. You’d better get on that after you break his curse - hah, get on that. I’m a genius. Remind me to tell your Dad.” 

Once again, she was clearly going to tell Dad herself before Stiles even got the chance to do so, because she was ridiculously proud of her stupid sense of humor - and his Dad would genuinely think this was funny, even though he didn’t want to think about the topic of the joke at all. When one lived with Claudia Stilinski, one learned to adapt and enjoy her ridiculous jokes. And love her for them. And maybe make a couple more of your own jokes in return. 

Stiles had clearly inherited that sense of humor, and he loved her for it. Even when he had to stop hugging her and settle for an arm around him. 

“He doesn’t even know me,” Stiles really tried to explain it to her. 

“He knows enough,” Mom nudged him a little. “He knew you as a kid, when you had that adorable buzz cut and you ran around trying to keep up with Cora. But mostly you were just trying to get Derek’s attention. Not that you knew what to do with it when you had it.” 

Really, she was the only one who’d ever considered the buzz cut adorable. Stiles himself had actually thought it was badass - and he’d been so fucking wrong. It really was easy to deal with though. Very low maintenance. 

“What?” Stiles was sure that she was misremembering things. 

“Even as a kid,” Mom continued, “you always knew just where Derek was. And what he was doing. Reading, or playing sports with his uncle Peter. It didn’t matter what it was, you knew exactly where to find him. And exactly where you needed to play your loudest game, or jump around, or scream at things… You just wanted him to notice you, and because he didn’t play with you like Cora did, however grudgingly, or treat you like a buddy, like Laura did - you thought you had to show off just so he’d pay attention to you.” 

Well yeah, he’d always craved people’s attention as a kid, but he couldn’t actually recall focusing that much on Derek in particular. He just remembered being unable to stand still, and having to run and yell, desperately trying to keep up with wolves. He was just the idiot human tagalong to Cora, and just a kid to Laura. He’d always assumed Derek hardly even noticed him, or just thought of him as an annoying brat. 

Could he have been wrong about that? About all of them? 

“The second you looked away from him,” Mom really had different memories of his childhood, “he was looking right at you. He didn’t want to let you win, but he also didn’t want you to stop. Talia and I used to joke about finally being a real family.” 

Ah yes, no hidden motives there at all. 

The impish grin on his mother’s face was almost an exact copy of his own, and it would have been eerie if it hadn’t been totally awesome. 

“Well, you can’t hit on family,” Stiles warned her. 

“We’re not actually related,” Mom had to take advantage of that loophole. “I know you like to deflect, and I get that. But you could give it a chance. Not for me, or for Talia, or for anyone else but you and Derek. There was a reason he picked you as his mate, and there was a reason you accepted his courtship. Take some time to figure it out. Together.” 

This was why he still came to her for advice - because she made a stupid amount of sense even when she was teasing him. Because she always knew when to get serious, and when to go right back to joking. An exit line was coming, Stiles knew that much. 

“Give him a test drive,” Mom continued, and Stiles facepalmed. “You have to know what you’re getting into. Or what he’s getting into, depending on your preference.” 

His Mom was literally the most embarrassing person on the face of the planet, and the fact that she had the power to bring out all of the most embarrassing memories of him just made him very sure of the existence of karma. This was revenge for all of the stupid teenage pranks he’d played with Scott, once upon a time. It was all coming back to him now. 

“You’re the worst,” he called out, practically running downstairs to get away from her. 

He loved her so fucking much. 

* * *

Stiles had to wait until Cora had left before he could get back to his bed - the nest. Because the empty room upstairs just wasn’t all that appealing. 

Even though he knew it was no use, he tried to sneak in, bypassing Derek to go straight for their nest. Derek was apparently in a decent mood after his conversation with his sister, because he seemed to allow it, letting Stiles snuggle into the blankets and not saying a word. He just followed Stiles into the nest and pulled him close. 

His eyes weren’t even closed, but Stiles felt that golden glow anyway. Apparently the connection didn’t need his conscious input anymore - it just needed an eager Derek who wanted to bond with Stiles even more. And Derek appeared to be very eager. 

So Stiles let himself fall down the rabbit hole, and followed the path to where he’d seen the wolf, and the beta, and where he now found… A normal guy. 

“Hello, mate,” a very human Derek told him. 

Well, that was not British. That was not the British kind of mate. Or Australian. Or both. 

“Oh, fuck, did I miss a bit somewhere?” Stiles tried to focus even harder on eradicating any last trace of that damn curse. “I probably fucked up your instincts with all the going along with the rituals. Don’t worry, I’m sure I can fix that. There’s gotta be a spell for that.” 

If Derek was still calling him mate, and not trying to get rid of him, that meant that Stiles hadn’t managed to lift the curse. Not that he’d put a lot of conscious thought into it anymore. He just let himself get pulled towards Derek and let the bond do what it wanted to - usually that was the way to healing. Instincts were very important - and wasn’t that ironic? 

“You’re an idiot,” Derek said, just like he used to say it to Stiles back when they were young. 

Sure, he’d gotten older and his voice had gotten a little bit deeper - not as deep as Stiles had expected it would get, but still nice - but the cadence of it was exactly the same. Which meant that the hint of fondness (okay, maybe a bit more than a hint of fondness) that Stiles was detecting had always been there. Which meant that this week was just happening to completely blow his damn mind. Because Derek had liked him back then. 

Not as much as he did now (did he, now?) - but he’d liked Stiles. He’d been fond of him. 

“An idiot who saved your ass,” Stiles had to defend himself. 

“Look, Stiles,” Derek was not having any of this, apparently. “I was cursed. I was feral. That meant I was relying completely on instinct. Never, not anywhere, in this curse was there anything that tricked my instincts. It’s kind of rude that you’d think that.” 

None of this was news, except for the bit that was completely out of left field for him. The not being tricked bit, that was new. That was unexpected. That was wrong, because it had to be wrong. Because of course someone like Derek had to be tricked into wanting to mate with someone like Stiles - that had to be a part of the curse. Isolation except for the one person who’d always annoyed him the most. Yeah, that sounded like Kate Argent kind of torture. 

“What?” Stiles was almost stunned silent. 

“You’re an idiot,” Derek repeated, smug and grinning. “You’ve always been my mate. The whole time. Since we were kids. I knew before we moved to Washington. But you were just a kid.” 

The fondness was just getting worse, and Stiles would have really liked to remain in the land of denial for a while longer - because this was just too good to be real. Things like this just didn’t happen to him. He didn’t get to have nice things - not this nice, anyway. He got a middling career that barely earned him enough money for necessities, a single best friend who could occasionally be a shit, and a list of rejections a mile long. 

But Derek Hale was a nice thing, and he was claiming Stiles got to have him. 

“That can’t be true,” Stiles denied it. “You hated me.” 

Did he, though? Had Derek ever actually said that he hated Stiles? He couldn’t recall, not even in the way that Cora used it (in the way that it actually meant the opposite). There was not a single memory in his head of Derek pushing him away or yelling at him or calling him names or saying that he hated Stiles. There was just… silence and weirdness. 

“Idiot,” Derek repeated, making it sound more and more like a pet name each time. “I didn’t know how to act around you. Apparently you couldn’t see through my awkwardness. That’s fine, as long as you get it now. But you don’t. You really, really don’t.” 

Wait, so they’d both been awkward idiots feeling things they weren’t mature enough to deal with? That made a stupid amount of sense, even though Stiles was still playing catch-up. A lot of his childhood memories just got framed in a whole new life, and he was going to need a minute (or a whole lot more than a minute) to put the puzzle back together. He wanted to do that, but he was also a little scared of what the picture was going to show him. 

“I courted you,” Derek continued. “Going completely off my instincts. And you went along with it, every step of the way. You actively encouraged me to keep marking you. You only slept when I was in the nest with you. You used the mate bond to fix me. You scented me right back, rubbing yourself all over me. You were just much better at ignoring your instincts than I am.” 

Stiles’ instincts? That was what - 

It had been in every single one of the books, that the connection was not one-sided. That the mate felt a variation of the wolf instinct, especially if they were sensitive to magic. Just the instinct - the feelings were all his, but the way to act on them was a new instinct. If Stiles had rejected the courtship (or if he’d wanted to), he’d instinctively had done that in the right way to make sure that both the wolf and the human understood. 

Or, well… Not Stiles the human, apparently. That guy missed the boat, by a lot. 

“But if you want,” Derek concluded, “I’ll do it all again. I’ll court you with words as well. And you can accept me again. No curse. Just you and me.” 

Shit, Derek was a bit of a romantic, wasn’t he? That was just rude, because Stiles loved romance, with all of his heart. He’d just never been a part of any grand romance before, but now he was being given a shot at romance, at the forever kind of love. 

“What words would you use?” Stiles tried not to show how into this he was. 

“No one has made me smile like you have,” Derek started, going straight for the heart. “You’ve been able to read me without me having to say a word to you. You used to call it brow language, I think. When you were younger. When I was upset, awkward or unsure. You always managed to distract me, by making fun of yourself, or by just being loud. Somehow you always knew exactly when I needed you. You still do. You get it. You get me.” 

A lot of words - somehow Stiles had not been expecting a flood of words. He’d been expecting a few stammered sentences, during which Derek was going to get flushed. Did tips of his ears still get red when he blushed? Stiles was dying to find out. 

But those words, the speech he got? He was kind of speechless. 

“But that’s not all you want to hear,” Derek continued. “Do you want me to tell you how gorgeous you are now? All grown up and tall and lithe and sexy. Because fuck, Stiles. I took one look at you and I just wanted to lick you all over. Your cute neck, and your collarbone that was made for me to mark. Your mouth, fuck, Stiles, your indecent mouth. That oral fixation has been killing me. Your ass, the way we were grinding together even though you pretended to be asleep. I can’t wait to see the rest of you, if you’ll let me.” 

Now Stiles was the one blushing, because Derek was every inch the predator, and he was still basically on top of Stiles, even though he was holding back a little, in the nest that still smelled of the both of them. He wasn’t even touching any of the areas he was talking about, but Stiles still felt it. Phantom touches Derek was sending along through the bond, because he was an asshole who wanted Stiles to suffer. He wanted Stiles to feel all of it. 

“You’re being really unfair right now,” Stiles stammered. 

“I’m not sorry,” Derek’s smirk was a lethal weapon. “I’m courting you. I have to make sure that you know all of these things. I don’t want any miscommunication just because I wasn’t able to tell you before. There are so many things I can tell you, about all the things I thought of, of what we could do together. All you have to do is let me court you again.” 

Well, now he really wanted to hear some of the things Derek thought of. Not just the things they could do in this nest (though he really wanted to hear all about that in graphic detail), but also the future Derek imagined they could build together. He wanted to hear the sappy stuff too, and how they’d make a relationship out of a crisis. 

Which made him think of...

“I have to warn you,” Stiles knew exactly what to say. “I’ve heard relationships based on intense experiences never work.”

For a second, Derek actually looked disappointed. Disappointment quickly turned to some serious frustration brows, because Stiles was an asshole who turned things into a joke. 

“Did you just quote Speed at me?” Derek’s brows were really not impressed. 

“I had to make sure you could keep up with me,” Stiles was smug about this one. 

Now that was a challenge, and he couldn’t wait to find out what Derek was going to do with it. He wanted to find out if Derek would rise to the occasion (hah, dirty) or if he would fail to live up to Stiles’ expectations. It was important to know that before he committed to someone - not that it had ever worked up for him before. Which technically wouldn’t matter anymore if things worked out with Derek. If this was forever after all. 

“Oh, I can keep up,” Derek promised, slowly lowering himself onto Stiles. 

“Oh, fuck,” Stiles let it happen, wrapping himself around Derek in return. “You’re such an asshole. I can’t believe this. You’re going to kill me.” 

Derek just continued to gloat, and Stiles thought him all the more attractive because of it. So maybe that test drive wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

* * *

Talia Hale officially announced that she was running for the presidency a few weeks later, three healthy children right by her side. They were all wearing amulets with the triskele on that, carefully charmed by Stiles, to keep them from getting cursed again. 

Kate and Gerald had been arrested just days before, but one could never be too sure. 

“She’s going to kill it,” Stiles whispered to Jordan. 

They fist-bumped and watched the Hale family from the sidelines for a little while, until they too were dragged onto the stage. Isaac had gotten to be there the whole time - security privileges, which just wasn’t fair according to Stiles. He was providing security too, just for the more magical threats. So really, he should have been there. 

But when he’d argued that, Isaac just accused him from being unable to function without Derek, and since they actually hadn’t left Derek’s bed (his actual bed, with all of the blankets and pillows from the nest thrown on top of it) for at least three days before that meeting… Well, Stiles didn’t exactly have a ton of counterarguments there. Especially not when Derek just grinned at him and nipped at one of the many marks on his throat. 

Stiles was going to have to find some way to make a turtle neck work for him if he ever wanted people to take him seriously again. Which they had never done in the first place, so…

“Mate,” Derek drew him back to the present. “Come on Stiles, wear that pretty smile for me, at least for a little while. Promise to treat you real nice after.” 

Thank the Lord they’d resisted getting mic-ed up for this, because they hadn’t actually managed to keep the bedroom talk out of regular conversation. That was probably going to take a bit more time - which they had more than enough of, apparently. 

“Still courting me?” Stiles had to ask. 

“Always,” Derek promised in return. 

That man really was too much, and Stiles was ecstatic about it. Even though they’d already gone through the courting thing when Derek was cursed and feral, Derek insisted on doing it again, properly this time. Stiles figured he’d might as well get along with it, because Derek’s rewards for saying yes had gotten a whole lot better, and it was nice to be courted without worrying that it was all a mistake. Derek had made it very clear to Stiles: he’d chosen him. 

“I’ve already said yes,” Stiles reminded him. 

“You have to keep saying it,” Derek whispered. “Enthusiastically. Every day. That’s how we’re going to get to forever.” 

People were cheering, and they were on stage, surrounded by all of the Hales and their partners. Stiles’ parents were waiting in the wings, having extended their vacation for a little while longer to be there for this. Because they were family. 

“You’re such a sap,” Stiles fought against rolling his eyes. 

“Poor baby,” Derek mocked him, his face never changing. “Now at least pretend that you’re not thinking of what we’re doing later. We’re supporting my Mom.” 

That just made him think of it more, and Derek knew that all too well, the asshole. 

Stiles was in love. A little bit. A little lot. And everything else would follow after. 

He couldn’t wait. 


End file.
